A World Discovered, a World Away
by LottieLacey
Summary: Clara is leaving England behind to make a new life in America. She is traveling with her father and brother, William. In America, a fiance is awaiting her arrival, a man she has never met. Will she discover herself aboard the Titanic? Or will things change when she meets Ralph?
1. Chapter 1 - Leaving Behind

When the cars pulled up in the courtyard, my stomach was already churning. After all that William had told me, I was expecting the worst. Sea sickness was apparently worse than a fever. How on Earth was I going to cope with almost seven days on a ship? Father had of course tossed my brother's comments aside as he usually did when he tried to fool me. Father said that Titanic was the 'ship of dreams' so it was going to seem like we were on dry land. But what if William was right?

"Don't tell me you are still worried?" The voice of William startled me and I quickly turned around to face him at the door, my hand flying to my chest.

I had been standing at the window, looking out at the family staff loading our possessions into the cars. Three cars would carry us to the docks and one would be loaded onto the ship, for once we reached America. The new estate was already purchased, although I had only seen pictures. California was much warmer than here and father had told me that we would have lemon trees in the gardens. William would meet his fiance in New York and she would travel with us to our new home. I was still to meet the man whom I was engaged to.

William was wearing the bespoke beige suit and carrying a hat in one hand. Although he was only two years older than me, I immediately felt intimidated by his nineteen year old arrogance. Until mother died, he had been one of my closest friends. But when she died, he had become withdrawn and rushed to grow up, leaving me behind.

"No. Of course not." The words came out more sharply than I had intended, but I forced my gaze to remain on William. His gaze was now travelling down my body and assessing me like a new car. Although unsettling, I knew that there was nothing he could criticize. My hobble skirt fitted around my newly learnt curves perfectly in a sea green silk and my matching tailored jacket fastened snugly under my large breasts. These were assets which were sure to get me a husband.

"I am glad to hear that Clara." William nodded and for a moment I believed that he actually meant it. But then the cigar was between his lips and the solemn expression returned to his face. "Come. We need to be leaving. Father would hate to be late."

After that, William left the room so that Alice, my maid, was able to put the finishing touches to my hair and attach the hat securely. She had informed me that she too was scared about sailing aboard a ship, but I assured her that everything would be alright. We would be travelling in first class so we would be comfortable.

"I wonder whether the food will be a good as they said it was goin' to be." Alice mused, an excited yet worried look on her face.

"I am sure it will." I heard my own voice reply. My own expression matched her's and we let out a giggle together.

"Do not worry Miss. I am sure that all will be well. In a week we will be in America. Imagine that!" I couldn't decided whether she was reassuring me or herself. "Come Miss, you do not want to keep your father waiting."

I turned back one last time to take in the scene. The blue wallpaper still clung to the walls of my rooms, reminding me of mother. But she was gone. That was why we were leaving, to start a fresh life in America. After today, I would never see this room again.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Ship of dreams

Father and William sat opposite me in the car and I found myself looking anywhere but at them. My gaze trickled over the diminishing countryside that dropped away, transforming into the busy town of Southampton. As we got closer to the docks, the crowds thickened to form barriers of people on either side of the car. Plenty of people had already arrived at the docks, mostly the lower class passengers who had to go through the health inspection.

"Stop daydreaming Clara." My father snapped and immediately my gaze jumped from the window and into my lap. After the death of my mother, everything had changed. Both he and William had become sharp and withdrawn together, while I was left to figure out how to act when around them. I obviously wasn't doing a good job.

A couple more moments passed by and suddenly the car was slowing dramatically and I was forced to stare out of the window again. There beside the car, like a menacing shadow, was Titanic! Bigger than any boat I had ever seen before, she looked down on me like I was nothing. Mother had always tried to make me feel special, but next to this boat I merely felt small.

"It is huge!" I spoke when I felt the door open and took the chauffeur's hand. He nodded his head, trying not to smile at me. Father had banned anything of the kind. They weren't even supposed to look at me.

"Yes Clara. I told you days ago." William sounded bored as he climbed from the car behind me. "She is the biggest ship on this here Earth. Bigger than anything else man has made." For some reason, men seemed to be more interested than the women. I was merely worrying about this sea sickness business.

"Miss?" The voice of Alice was no behind me. "Would you like me to take your overcoat to the rooms? Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, yes. Thank you Alice." I nodded, unable to connect with her properly. My mind was wandering now.

"Come Clara." My father spoke, just as William took my arm, a fake smile glued to his face like a mask. And then we were walking towards the ship; the ship of dreams._ Titanic_.

This ship was like a prison, chaining me closer to Father and William. My stomach was churning as we walked along the walkway to the door of the ship. Crowds were cheering wildly now as the smoke started to pipe from the ship and it got ready to leave. William was talking to one of the ship staff, ordering to do something or other. Father was withdrawn from the world as always, saying nothing and merely being led to the suite. We were to stay in one of the largest room; a parlour suite with our own promenade deck.

Once at the door to our rooms, I was able to see what all of the talk was about. Perhaps this was luxurious as they had said. I was not going to admit that, but I could see now. People were everywhere; carrying our luggage, offering father and William drinks, perfecting the making of the beds and standing around. I felt trapped, yet free at the same time. Something great was going to happen on this ship; great didn't have to mean good though. Terrible things could be great too.

I found myself wandering over to our promenade deck where I could see hundreds of people standing at the docks, waving and calling goodbyes to their loved ones. Looking to the right and left, I could see passengers hanging over the sides of the railings, waving back and shouting things. The occasion was supposed to be happy, yet I felt more alone than ever. I was leaving England behind, leaving everything had had ever known behind, leaving mother behind.

"Come away from the window, Clara." William's sharp voice cut through my thoughts and I quickly wiped away the tear before turning back to him.

"I was only looking, William." I shot back.


	3. Chapter 3 - Dining in a Sea of Masks

I was told that Titanic had set sail late and that we would arrive at France later in the day an expected. Still, the day was bright and I was able to take a turn around the upper deck of the ship before being taken by William to eat in the cafe. Many people were milling around the corridors of the ship, talking about mindless things whilst nursing drinks in one hand. These people were the class of men that I was used to and had been living with for my whole life up until then. Whenever someone saw me; Lady Clara Shavelle, they would take my hand and kiss it. All the while I would be forcing myself to keep a gentle look on my face, while really, I was dying inside.

"Ah, Lady Clara." The voice of a certain John Jacob Astor cut through into my head and I turned to face the well-dressed American. We had anchored just off the shore of France and the new passengers were now being brought to the ship on smaller boats. Being the richest man on the ship, Astor held himself with a dignity and arrogance far worse but similar that of my brother.

"Hello. And hello Madeline." I spoke, smiling through my teeth and forcing myself to look away from the growing bump beneath her skirts. Astor took my hand and kissed it before stepping aside. This was all a false pretense. We all knew that Astor would rather be alone in his chambers with his little wifey, but no one had the courage to say anything. Finally, they moved away so that I would be able to proceed to my chambers to dress for dinner.

The fire was now burning high in the fireplace, Father and William were dressed for dinner and I Alice was putting the final touches to my makeup. Dressed in a blood red dress overlaid with black lace, I felt the part of the woman that I was pretending to be. Mother had always told me that she thought I would make a beautiful lady, but she wasn't here to judge. My hair was pulled up into a bun and pearls were draped around my slight neck. Finally, Alice handed me my gloves and nodded. The torture of eating dinner with these people was about to begin.

"Ah, you look beautiful." My father spoke, his eyes lighting up. But it was not Clara that he was seeing. No, my father was seeing my mother standing in my place. With a small intake of breath I looked down and muttered my thanks. This trip was supposed to help father forget about her, but it seemed that he was only remembering more.

Mother had been our rock. While the whole of the upper class community would flounce around with masks on, she would be there to lighten up any situation. She was pure, and kind, and everything that any woman would want to be. But the car had crashed, leaving no survivors... no survivors but me. I was only twelve at the time, and I had stood there, staring at the blood that spread from the large gash in her head, unable to more or do anything. A small part of me knows that father wished it was not she who died, but I. He loved her more than anything in the world, but God had taken her, and left me behind.

"I said, _come on_ Clara!" William's voice jolted me from the past as he offered me his arm and raised his eyebrows. This new personality often had me wondering whether he too wished that I had been the one to die. He had been close to mother, closer than a boy should have been. He would sit with her, for hours on end, watching her sew beautiful patterns into the silks. William would speak to mother before anyone else. And she had been robbed from him, leaving a little annoying sister behind.

"I am sorry." I told him as we walked along the corridor in the direction of the grand staircase. The sorry was for no particular thing but a range of mistakes I had made. He looked down at me then, the hard glaze over his once joyous eyes fading. For a moment, neither of us said a word and we listened to the sound of our feet on the carpet. Finally, I spoke again, my words only coming out as a whisper. "I know that you miss her."

After that, his gaze became hard again and he looked away, grinding his teeth as he did so. "Don't you _dare_ talk about her." Although his words came out harshly and he squeezed my arm painfully, I knew that I had struck a chord. William was using this false pretense to hide his true feelings, to stop the tears from dropping painfully from his eyes. I could see that grief was eating him up inside, but he wouldn't let me in. I could do nothing to stop it.

Once at the Grand Staircase, William let go of my arm in order to speak to some of his friends from university. He had studied law there and would now carry on in America. While he was at university, I had been sent away to preparatory school where I had learnt true etiquette. Mother had never wanted me to go there, but with her gone, father merely wanted me away from the house so that he could drown himself in alcohol. Looking around the room, I knew of plenty of these people, but none owned a friendly face that I could address.

"Hello deary!" The peppy and rough American voice knocked into me and I turned to face Molly Brown, the newest recruitment to the money club. She was larger than any woman I had ever seen, but her face was kind and I immediately felt more relaxed.

"Good evening Mrs Brown." I spoke, my own English accent juxtaposing her's.

"Call me Molly." She grinned and put her arm around my shoulder, just as my mother used to do. "You looked lonely and lost. You not got a fiance yet? No. Well, I sure am surprised dolly, what with that beautiful face." I could feel myself blushing now but it was thankfully hidden under the layer of white powder. "No worries. The longer you stay a girl, the older you'll be when you start to age." I wasn't sure if this was true, but I wasn't about to argue with this spectacular woman. She grinned at me again. "C'mon, let's go and get something to eat."

The tables looked magnificent and beautiful as always, but I no longer became amazed. This way of life was no longer enjoyable as I knew that almost everyone I spoke to was hiding something. Everyone here was suffering. Even Molly Brown. She was constantly shunned for the fact that she was 'new money', when really, she was just like the rest of us... only nicer than most.

The courses rolled by and I ate as much as everyone, just as always. The thought didn't even cross my mind that this was the food of dreams for those squashed into third class. Yes, they were fed plentiful food, but it was nothing compared to this. The talk around the table constantly changed and I found myself switching off. Father too was quiet while William continued to pretend to be happy.

"I hear that Charles is a good man?" One of the women's voices brought me back to the present. Charles. Who on Earth was Charles? Ah, my _fiance_. The man I had never met. He had been born into the money, just as I had. He was well to do and popular with the English royals. He owned a large estate in California, very close to Father's new home. Of course, he was perfect to these people around me, but what of his personality. Didn't that matter? Marriage was about love, but I could see no love here.

"So do I." I merely replied. And I hoped that he was. God, I hoped.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Wall of Sunshine

After dinner, the men started to meander into their clouds of smoke, a cigar in hand and a brandy in the other. Before her mother's death, she had told Clara that the men would gossip as much as any group of women and the talk would turn into competitions; men competing to try and have the biggest house or the most staff. Once again, the money club would wear their masks and try to be something they weren't.

The women in the room remained seated at the table, Molly Brown moving to the seat closest to me and smiling. Her cheeks had now flushed and she looked a little drunk, as many of the women would become if they let themselves. Drinking lots but letting it affect you little was a skill acquired by the money club as it would stop any embarrassment later, when you admitted that you had less money that you had boasted.

"I am very sorry to hear about your mother." I was barely aware that this conversation was taking place now, not because I was tired or thinking about other things, but because I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want any more of this horrid apology business. The funeral was supposed to be the time when I had put Mother to rest. These sort of conversations set my teeth on edge and a nod was the only thing I could manage.

"I think y'all might be upsetting the poor girl." Molly's voice boomed over the rest of their voices, destroying the stupid delicateness that they all strived to achieve. Although nothing like her in looks or sounds, Molly Brown reminded me of my own mother. She had always been willing to stick her arm out for me and to help me when things had got rough.

"I'm sure it isn't that." One said.

"No no, I think she would like us to show that we care." Another spoke out.

Couldn't anyone merely ask me whether I cared, instead of assuming these things?

"I need to... I, erm... I need to... to leave." My voice came out as barely a whisper before I placed my napkin onto the table and turned to leave. No one tried to stop my physically although there were a couple of verbal objections and murmurs under their breath. Of course, people would assume me to be attention seeking, but it was nothing like that. If I hadn't left the table at that moment, I might have thrown wine at one of them, or broken down there in front of them.

Perhaps even as a shock to myself, I started to sob when I reached the top of the Grand Staircase and emerged on the deck of Titanic. In the dark, there was an eerie silence which rattled my bones as the sobs erupted from my lungs. After a couple of sobs, I felt my legs carrying me to the edge of the ship so that I was holding onto the railings in order to support myself as the tears continued to fall. Looking down at the blackness beneath my feet, I started to think about how things would have been if mother was still alive. Perhaps we would never have boarded the Titanic. Perhaps I would have had at least a small part in deciding my future husband, as mother had always wanted. There were so many things that would never happen.

My whole body was now aching and I was starting to wonder why Father or William had not made their way out onto the deck in order to drag me back inside; my thoughts kicking and screaming while my mouth would remain closed to my true feelings. But they didn't come.

"Miss?" The voice startled me and I spun around to find myself face to face with one of the White Star Line staff. He could have only been my age, perhaps a little older, but the look of concern on his face was genuine, unlike so many of the other workers. Of course, there was no reason for them to be truly concerned. Our lives were wonderful compared with the struggles that they had to go through.

"I'm sorry for startling you, Miss." He repeated in his American accent.

"I-I... you didn't." I quickly shot back, trying to hide both my sorrow and terror.

"Why don't you come back inside?" He was moving towards me now, trying to take my arm and lead me back into the snake pit.

"NO!" My voice was louder than I had hoped it would be. "No. I mean... erm- I do not want to yet."

"And why is that?" He persisted and I started to question myself why he cared.

"Because I am enjoying the stars."

"Miss, I'm sorry to inform you... but its cloudy. You can't see the stars tonight." He was obviously trying to hide the humour from his voice now. It was not working.

"Well, I was just taking a walk."

"So why are you crying?" He shot back, and that was when the next round of tears started.

"Why do you even care? You don't know me. You shouldn't care." My voice cracked as I spoke.

"I don't know."

Silence. I turned to face away from him.

"I'm Ralph Merridew." God, he was carrying on with this.

"Lady Clara Shavelle." I turned around to find an outstretched hand in front of his smirking face. However much I felt like hitting him at the moment, I couldn't deny that he was handsome. This boy looked like he had lived a real life. His skin was slightly bronzed and when I took his hand, I felt the rough creases of hard labour present.

"What a pleasure it is to meet you." He said half-jokingly. "Why don't you wipe the tears away now?"

Embarrassed, I started to run my hand over my cheeks, wiping away any trace of sadness. "Alright, I have done that. Any more orders?" Once again, my stubbornness was shining through.

"No, no I think that's everything... although... perhaps... join me on a walk around the decks. And then I will leave you alone." The smile now shone brightly in his eyes and was breaking across his lips. I let myself giggle and then quickly pressed my lips together, hesitating to nod because I did not trust my voice. It was true that this man, this stranger, had captured some sort of interest in me, however big or small. I could not deny him a small walk. And besides, what harm could it do?


End file.
